


Her Beauty So Illogical

by NidoranDuran



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Masturbation, Mirrors, Narcissism, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:21:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26051815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NidoranDuran/pseuds/NidoranDuran
Summary: Cagliostro isn't just setting aside time at night to take care of her needs. She sets aside her time to admire the perfection of her creation: her own body. Anonymous commission.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	Her Beauty So Illogical

Dropping herself down fully naked in front of a mirror, Cagliostro let her eyes fall onto the glory of her body. "This body is perfect," she groaned, relaxing back and letting her fingertips dace across it. "Of course it is. I made it. I made the perfect body to live in. The perfect girl." It didn't even begin with any inherently sexual touching. Not up at her sensitive, perky nipples. Not down between her legs. Even her slender forearms and her taut tummy deserved to be caressed, too. It was easiest to start off in places like that. Places she could appreciate on herself without it feeling sexual at all. "It's me. I'm the perfect girl." She let out a sweet giggle, nobody around to play pretend she was some sweet and peppy little girl around, but that was fine; she just liked playing at it sometimes. For her own sake.

Cagliostro could not have been happier with the body she'd created. It was perfect for her own needs, a body she felt more comfortable in. A body that reflected what she wanted on the inside, but also a body free from the frailties of the one she was born in. A body waiting to house the powerful soul. A body to be admired. The mightiest alchemist in the world was a perky girl now shamelessly indulging in every inch of her body, savouring the soft skin that she just couldn't resist caressing it all over. In front of a mirror was only more exciting, as she caressed along her thighs. Touching the soft, smooth thighs that she dressed to show off.

"I can't believe I ever didn't look so good," she moaned. "But look at me now. Only the greatest mind could not only conceive of the perfect girl--the perfect body--but then create it. Create something to live in. Inhabit this perfection. Nobody else would ever be good enough. Nobody else could deserve this but me! Me!" Winding herself up and stroking her ego as a prelude to masturbation was all part and parcel of what she did, engaging in something close enough to real self-love that it was all the more shameful that she deepened her helpless, hungry surrender down into the state of desire and need that pushed her limits. Cagliostro knew what she was about to lean into. This was all part and parcel of a depraved little ceremony she had cooked up, a winding, throbbing rush of pleasures she always felt happy to sink into, pleasures rising up inside of her, demanding from her so much and leaving her to just crave more.

Watching herself, talking to herself, making a production of fondling her own thighs, were all part and parcel of the shameless narcissism that guided Cagliostro deeper. Her self-love was a malformed expression of every bit of ego that she had developed over the years, focused now onto her body as the singular expression of her glory, an absolutely relentless show of hunger and excitement that had her drawing out even the mere action of finally bringing her fingers upon herself. There was just so much body to touch. So much body to ogle. Her eyes couldn't hold still, but remained transfixed only on her own reflection; nothing else in the room was worth looking at with her in here.

The approach of her fingers reaching toward her waiting, slick pussy had her excited, breath tense and ready as she let herself encroach upon her own thoughts. Reason melted away, and she found herself unable to resist the possibilities of what was taking her. Cagliostro drew it out, but just had to give in now, had to allow herself to succumb, reaching with her ready fingers to indulge and engage. Cagliostro had nothing but patience for the steady appreciation of her body; she didn't need to hurry, didn't need to rush through anything at all. Her body was ready for her as it came, and the pleasures were something she could work at slowly. Patiently.

Her other hand was freer. More able to caress and fondle across her body, up to her flat chest where she worked at her nipples with tender little caresses, maybe even the faintest pinch here and there. Everything careful. Taking its time. She had to be slow and had to be careful with her approach; to let herself get too wound up was a hasty mess of feelings she wanted to resist. To temper. The smartest and most powerful alchemist to ever live simply did not lose herself to wild and uncaring emotions. She remained careful and composed, falling deeper into appreciation for herself, not deeper into ragged, filthy chaos. Control was just as important. Sure, Cagliostro loved herself, but she was also translating that love into the modicum of control, still. She had to.

"Nobody else would even know what to do with a body this perfect," she moaned, continuing her frenzied indulgence of lust and self-aggrandization. "These experienced hands know exactly how to touch my every corner to bring about pleasures grander than anyone else could. There's a reason I'm the only one good enough for myself." Her head rolled back, but her eyes remained fixed on the mirror, as her fingers worked faster, as she rubbed herself with more desperate and lustful motions of need and hunger that she just couldn't resist. The pleasure was powerful, and the more that she let it guide her down into the thrall of desire, the more that she ached to let herself sink in.

The relaxation washed over her. Even as her hand picked up its intensity, Cagliostro felt like the rest of her body was sinking in deeper. Heat swelled up inside of her, warming over waves of arousal, and once she got going, there wasn't a lot more she needed. Whether it was the fingers pumping into her or the hand fondling across her body, there didn't need to be anything but herself and the soft, deft digits that could bring her such bliss. "Nobody else could make me feel this good with so little. No tools. No tongues. Nothing else. Only fingers. But I'm so brilliant, and this body was made to be so perfect!"

Self-love and ego had always been around to Cagliostro, but inhabit this body had dialed up the ego and the self-praise, given her a body she not only felt comfortable in, but was ready to accept what rose inside of her, what began to ache. She didn't feel like she needed much more than this. The pleasure spoke for itself, and as she continued pushing her limits, this all just felt right. Cagliostro knew what she needed, and she executed her plan to indulge in those needs with expert precision, firm and thorough and unrepentant in the pleasures she lavished herself with. The self-praise and the devoted, fiery bliss she pushed on with was utterly unstoppable, and her insatiable lusts were only getting more powerful with each push.

There wasn't a whole lot that needed to make sense about what she was giving herself up to. The pleasure and the fever behind everything she did was only picking up in its intensity, in the desires and the heat that she let take her. Steady pumps of her hand and an eager grind of her palm against her clit brought on eager swells of lust. As she started to give up to it, her body wound up for more, and she didn't try to hold back the vigorous possibilities starting to rise within her. There was only one thing she wanted now: to give in.

Her hips bucked forward, rising off of the floor and inching toward a pleasure and a heat that only grew more powerful. Reason flew away and left only the pulsating, aching need of a girl giving herself to her body's needs, loving her body in turn as it brought her everything she deserved, and letting the downward spiral carry her off. Cagliostro didn't need to be powerful right now; everything she did with this body was an expression of her power. Of her brilliance. The perfect form made whole from nothing, and now she could live as it, her own testament to her brilliance. Her entire life was only possibly through her majesty and her might, and Cagliostro knew with each pump of her fingers into her slick, pure, virginal hole. An immaculate place only she was allowed to touch, where only she knew how to bring herself her much-deserved pleasure.

The rising heat and pulsating, throbbing bliss was only getting rougher. Faster. Cagliostro moaned through the pleasure now, joyful swells of want that rose and ached, proudly exciting her and setting her body aflame with so many feelings and so many powerful swells of need that just had to be given into. She was lost to something intoxicating now, and her hips were hammering on faster, refusing to control the idea of restraint, but in its place was an even greater bliss; true surrender. The crushing joy of chasing the pleasures further. Harder. Fingerfucking herself raw and refusing to hold back. Cagliostro was precisely where she needed to be, and she felt the creeping heat of a powerful, wicked orgasm threaten to unravel her at the seams.

Building up to the orgasm she knew would overwhelm her and send her into a spiral of bliss, Cagliostro couldn't stop. She pumped harder, moaning and shifted about in reckless swells of greed that could only get stronger as she let herself give up to them. She refused to slow down, pumping away, indulging in hotter, more reckless pulses of pleasure she was just utterly inconsolable in the face of. Every aching, throbbing rush of pleasure she gave in to was a testament to how much she needed to let go, and rather than fight it another moment, she threw herself into the deep end, and for her trouble, the mad embrace of pulsating ecstasy was a prize she was happy to reach.

When she came, she called her own name out. Cried it with the vigor of a lover. Were she ever to deign to let somebody else embrace her and indulge in her body, she couldn't have said it with the same love and passion with which she said her own name, one final testament to ego as she came, as her whole body lit up and tightened, eyes refusing to close so she could watch the tremble of her thighs and the buck of her hips as she gave in to the pleasure. She burned with a wild need that she found every night. Sometimes several times a night. It never got old. The compliments Cagliostro gave herself never grew tired.

And tonight felt like a night where she wanted to keep going. Rather than slowing down, she continued fingering herself, spreading her legs out, relaxing her whole body and going for another round. She needed hours of it today. "I'm the perfect being, nobody deserves this relief more than me." It was all the reasoning she needed to carry on with every wicked thrill inside of her.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this depravity, why not follow me on twitter https://twitter.com/nidoran_duran and get updates on my new and upcoming stories?


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